


A Small Victory

by Anchanted_One



Series: The Dragons of our Age, and the Heroes who Walked with Them [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: 18 + only, Adults only, Do not post on other sites without permission, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Sexual Assault, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21001001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchanted_One/pseuds/Anchanted_One
Summary: I have written this work to show two things; how cruel, sick, monstrous Lord Vaughan was; and Shianni's successful attempt to continue fighting, to not give in, through the worst night of her life.There was also this part of me that needed this story written; a part that took me over and didn't let me rest till it was done (short though it is), which made me feel like I had something else in me wanting to write it (I am not kidding here, nor exaggerating)As such, writing this short took quite a toll on me. It was enough to give me nightmares for days.Reader Caution strongly advised. Please.





	A Small Victory

**Author's Note:**

> I have written this work to show two things; how cruel, sick, monstrous Lord Vaughan was; and Shianni's successful attempt to continue fighting, to not give in, through the worst night of her life.  
There was also this part of me that needed this story written; a part that took me over and didn't let me rest till it was done (short though it is), which made me feel like I had something else in me wanting to write it (I am not kidding here, nor exaggerating)  
As such, writing this short took quite a toll on me. It was enough to give me nightmares for days.  
Reader Caution strongly advised. Please.

Terror. Despair. Humiliation. Shock. Pain. 

Shianni screamed. She wept. She wailed. The whole world was fear and pain.

She had not found any openings or opportunities to run when they were being led to Vaughan’s door, and had given up on simple escape when she saw his hideous grin. She had screeched like an angry hawk, and had started an almighty struggle in the guards’ hands, even managing to break their grip for a second. But two others had seized her again, and taken her to a collection of shackles and restraints that looked like they had been custom-designed to satisfy someone’s perverse desires. 

The room already smelled of blood and tears, there was a group of brutally beaten and tortured Elven women sitting barely conscious in one end of the large room. Six women. They had a combination of gashes, whip stripes, bruises, and burns. One had an arm bent at an awkward angle and one other looked like she would not live through the night.

The girls with Shianni gasped and started sobbing softly, trembling feverishly, praying their fates were less bleak than these women, but Shianni had known that her treatment would be far worse. In fact, a small part of her still demanded it! She had no intention of giving up, making it easy for them, and wanted to wear her resistance and her torture as a badge of pride for what she had endured.

And so she had screamed and wriggled and bitten and flailed and kicked as hard as she could. Throughout the beatings and punches she had struggled viciously against her restraints, enough that the stone the chain was attached to had gotten weaker—weak enough for her to almost pull it out before they undid those restraints and tied her to another one, one which exposed her back for the whips, and her feet for the razors and tongs.

She’d been punched and slapped, she’d been whipped like a mule. But she didn’t stop her struggles. When she saw that Vaughan actually liked her defiance, she considered going limp, but when she showed signs of exhaustion, the horrid little cockroach seemed to get more excited—like he sensed a climax approaching—and that had renewed her efforts.

But eventually she had been worn down enough for Vaughan to viciously mount her. As he cruelly violated her, Shianni had howled in pain and terror. She tried to struggle, but adrenaline hadn’t been able to overcome her exhaustion and her pain. Despite this she kept trying to fight, no matter how weak; she would not break, she would not break!

Vaughan collapsed shortly afterwards, huffing and puffing. His face was flushed red with deep satisfaction. Through her tears, Shianni threw him her most disgusted scowl. So he’d enjoyed her resistance, had he? Won some victory? Well, she was going to settle for her small victory—knowing that she hadn’t stopped fighting. And if she survived, she would someday gain a huge victory over this son of pigs.

Then the door flew open. Shianni saw her cousins barge in like heroes from some legend, they both wielded beautiful swords—the ones belonging to the Cousland survivor?— and covered in blood. Vaughan, to his credit, did not balk. He attempted to bargain his way out of this, and when that failed, he did not, as Shianni had expected, try to take her hostage. 

He grabbed a sword from a desk, then run at his attackers, fearless despite being naked as the day he was born.

Shianni watched as a large dog tore out the face of one of Vaughan’s toadies, Soris stabbed another one, who was cowering before him, and Cira tried to keep a surprisingly adept Vaughan at bay. But though she had clearly been exhausted and hurt, Cira eventually cut off Vaughan’s arm at the elbow—such a powerful swing! As he tried to fall back, snarling, Cira had grabbed his sword and stuck it deep into Vaughan’s manhood. The noble howled loudly, and Cira let the moment drag on a little longer before stabbing him in the stomach. A mortal wound. Again she used his own sword. Perhaps she didn’t want to stain that piece of art with the vermin’s blood.

Shianni watched with satisfaction, thrilled to have at least seen her violator’s final, painful moments. If this was as big a victory she could have against this pig, then she would take it.

* * *

**Epilogue**

A Year Later…

Shianni entered the Throne Room with some trepidation. She was so nervous, so nervous, so nervous! Even though she was on first-name terms with the new King, it was going to be the first time she met him since his coronation. Her head was abuzz anxieties, and she barely noticed where her cousin was leading her, or whom she passed.    
The Court Herald announced her to the room, and she walked in. She didn’t know the ceremonies of the Royal Court, but Cira had assured her that becoming the new Monarch hadn’t changed the King too much.

“Hello, Shianni!” The King grinned. “I hope you don’t mind if I get right to the point; there’s so much to do! I have some good news for you. We have recognized Theren as the son of Vaughan Kendal. And you as Arlessa of Denerim!”

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”

“You heard me,” the King said. “Your son is now the last descendant of the Kendal House. By default, he is now the Arl of Denerim. And you hold the position in his stead until he comes of age. Congratulations on the new post, Arlessa Shianni. I hope you will help us bring great peace and stability to Ferelden.”

Shianni surveyed the ruins of what used to be the Arl of Denerim’s estate. Much of it had been destroyed during the battle of Denerim. 

_ Arlessa _ . Lady of her own new House, the first of a new line of Arls. She grinned with some satisfaction. While enduring that night so long ago had taken everything she had, and recovering from the physical and mental toll had demanded even more, the child born of that rape had awarded her everything the bastard had owned, and many things he hadn’t. 

Like the title of Arl. She grinned viciously. “Take that, you filthy slug!” 

She was glad of the estate being gone. Now she could rebuild it however she wanted, still owning Vaughan’s land but rebuilding the mansion would be like wiping away the last remnants of her horrific night. 

This was her vengeance on the man. Now perhaps she could move on with her life.

  
  



End file.
